Total Eclipse Of The Mind
by just keep breathing
Summary: Brittany decided she no longer wanted to remember and erases Santana from her mind… but does it work? Santana refuses to let her blond forget and ventures out to help her remember. Loosely based on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind, Brittana style.
1. Chapter 1

**Based very loosely on the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind. I'm not following the movie completely, but there will be similarities. All flashbacks will be obviously distinguished from the present to avoid confusion since there will be many flashbacks associated with this story. Thanks in advance for reading and I hope you enjoy!**

I hadn't quite been able to pinpoint the moment where I had gone wrong. I thought, though maybe a bit too optimistically, that I had been good, and that I had followed the relationship by the fairytale rulebook. It was weird, to have cared so much about someone so... strange. She was different, with her always care free spirit and ever knowing smile. She was intriguing. She was a drug that terrified my entire being and caught me so far into an addiction that I was hopelessly fighting. No way can I put her into words. Words do not come close to capturing the energy of this girl who grabbed me by the leather jacket and ripped off my horns. No longer was I flirting the lines with Satan, instead I was hopelessly floating on clouds with an angel carrying me between her wings. No longer did I fight the feelings that told me to run. She was the watering-can that fed the tiny seed buried deep within my nearly empty chest.

She was all these things to me, however never was I able to return these things. The gates around my growing heart were suffocating. The devil on my shoulder was always telling me to run, leading me away into a situation that he deemed safer. She came into my life to fix my broken soul. I came into her life to break her good spirit. It's all I was ever good for, it's all I had ever known in life. Never was I taught how to give and not take. Still she watered the seed in my chest and it grew, and grew. She continued to water it, and it continued to grow until the seed was no longer a seed. The seed became a black hole, most likely planted by Satan on my shoulder. It sucked up all the water she could give, and even when she ran dry she did everything she could to keep feeding the parasite that was growing inside of me. I took. I never gave. I tried. But never hard enough.

Fairytales usually start with a struggle and end with a happily ever after. They usually have to fight good with evil and love always conquers all. I found out quickly that we were never going to be able to become what I had so wished we could. We started happily, we conquered the good and discovered the evil, we lost the love and it conquered us in the end.

I've liked to believe that there are certain things that can never be forgotten. Things like graduations and achievements, wins and loses and because of it I led myself to believe that those people who shape you, and those people that you shape, cannot be forgotten. Though I'm not a deep thinker by any means, I can't help but ponder the thought of forgetting the thoughts that seem unforgettable. Those things that have made you, you. How those things can leave your mind, how they can be forgotten, or how they can be erased. This is nothing like forgetting a birthday or anniversary, it's forgetting why you live and what you continue living for. I can't understand it. Maybe, maybe I just won't allow myself to understand it... I usually try to avoid this deep end of my mind because I've never properly learned to swim. My sea of thoughts has proven to be a deep, dark, cold ocean that swallows all that enters its waters.

Yet, I led myself to believe that memories are forever, even if people aren't.

As the years progress I seem to lose faith in everything I once believed in. Things change, they always change, I know that it's inevitable. But I thought, maybe, we could keep the things that seem as concrete as memories.

I met Brittany at the train station on a rainy Tuesday morning. I was running late for work, and she was running late for life. I was running away from reality, and she was the escape. I don't believe in love at first sight, but that's okay because I didn't see her at first. I heard her, lightly humming; I listened to her soft melody. I acoustically encoded her into my mind, into my heart, and into my life.

She was the kind of women one could only wish to have, or to become. She was a different kind of beautiful, the type that you only usually saw on television and in movies. It wasn't fake though, she simply was that flawless without even needing to try. She wore no makeup, she didn't need it. She rarely went into any effort to style her hair, but she didn't to. All of those things just seemed to fall right into place for her without any effort.

She didn't worry about the bad things in life, rather she made point to believe in the good and share those beliefs with everyone she encountered. She walked into a room just to bring it to life. She smiled and immediately cured the common case of the frowns. She laughed, and everyone laughed along even if nothing was funny. She was unforgettable, impressionable, and everything I could never become, everything I could never hold onto.

She was everything that I used to want to grow up into. She was a free spirit that wasn't held down by anything, or anyone. She didn't need a job to make a living nor did she need a house to make a home. She just was existent in a world of people determined to stand out, to succeed, and to win. I'd never admit to being jealous of the fact that I was never going to be any of those things. She tried to shape me into someone more willing to see the good rather than the bad. She attempted to show me the optimistic views that painted a permanent smile upon her glowing face daily.

I was never willing to see the things that she saw in people. I clung to my beliefs that people aren't good, nor do they actually have true intentions.

Many times she tried to explain to me that she was different, that she would make me believe in people. She'd smile this, almost sad, but still cheerful smile that made me, forced me, to believe her. And I did. But now I don't.

Brittany never needed anything in life except her dance shoes and a smile. She was content with living couch to couch because she claimed it gave her more of an opportunity to change people. That's all she ever tried to do. She wanted to be that person that someone would remember forever. She wanted to be anything anyone else needed, because she needed to be remembered.

It's ironic... She tried so hard to make people remember her but she no longer wanted to remember things herself. Things got hard, and she decided to forget. She decided to erase all of the good along with the bad. She took away everything I tried so desperately to give her. She took the memories that I tried to make perfect, and she erased them. One simple hour long procedure erased me from her life.

That fact alone isn't what bothers me the most. The hypocrisy of the situation can be forgiven, as can the entire act of removal itself. It was her choice, after all. I cannot understand what exactly drove her to make that decision, but I have no choice but to accept it.

What I can't forgive, however, is the fact that I still remember. I remember every detail of every moment we spent together. I like to think that I can remember everything so vividly that I could paint a picture of every frame captured with the camera in my mind.

Sometimes I would catch myself trying to take a mental picture with my eyes. I would stare intently at her face, right into those deep baby blues, and then I would begin memorizing every speckle of green and every hue of blue. I would count every freckle, and every blink of her eye. Then I would shut my eyes tightly, open them quickly, just to tightly shut them again. Like a camera shutter taking multiple pictures as if to capture movement without actually recording.

I remember the stolen glances, and the shy smiles. I remember the first word she ever spoke to me, and I remember the last. I remember the digits to her phone number, the combination to her padlock for her bike, and I remember every moment she spoke the three words, and spelled out those eight letters that will forever haunt my memories. The exact memories she will never recall. The exact memories that used to be able to make her smile. The exact memories that she used to need to give other people.

She told me once that if things didn't work out, that at least we could always remember the times when everything did work. We'd be able to look back to those times and accept that fate wasn't really on our side. She told me that it would be okay because those memories are things that will never change, that though there would be bad memories as well that the good ones are what will stick. Happiness was always going to be hiding under those bad moments, and that's what we needed to always remember. Happiness is something that comes in small phases. Some people experience these phases longer than others. The thing that would always be most important is the simple act of remembering the those phases, and then learning from their endings how to make them last longer.

She's forgotten my name, and my face. She can't remember the times that I cried, and she held me. She'll never remember the day when I let her take me over.

I refuse to believe that just because she went to some doctor to make her forget that it erases feelings as well. She promised, she swore, that she would always love me. She'd never break a promise. I hope she would never break this promise.

She'll never remember that I love her, and that I've never loved anyone else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for all your interest in this story guys, it means a lot! Review, review, review! All flashbacks will be in italics, while the present will be in normal text. Like the movie the sequence of events isn't exactly in chronological order, so if you get confused at any point feel free to ask me and I'll help explain it to you. (By the way, Gpal and Naya on Landslide, AMAZING right?)**

_I was born without the ability to be on time. I've yet to decide if it's because of my refusal to use an alarm clock, or the fact that I don't care enough these days. It's Tuesday morning, yet it still feels like Monday. Actually, every morning feels like Monday morning. It's like this routine has been etched into my mind because there are rarely any changes in my mornings. I've been on autopilot ever since I moved to New York._

_I wake up, usually at about six in the morning if I'm lucky. I shower, sometimes. I'm pretty notorious for wearing yesterday's eyeliner to work these days. Sometimes I'll walk the long way to the train, other days I take the shortcut. I always miss the first train, and catch the second. I always sit on the bench that is to the right of the stairs, I never sit on the bench that is to the left._

_Occasionally Patches, the homeless man, will be seated on my bench. When he is there I give him my lunch money, mostly because I know I'll be skipping lunch to catch up on work anyhow. The life of an editor has it's ups and downs I suppose. _

_I hate Tuesdays though, I always have. The train runs earlier, which means that against all I believe in I'm forced to miss the first train an hour earlier than I usually have to miss it during the week._

_Today, though, has been different ever since I've woke up. I woke up an hour early, showered, and did my makeup. Now I'm sitting on my bench purposely missing the first train even though I'm on time. Even though it'd mean getting to work earlier, and leaving earlier. I'm not exactly sure why I miss it, maybe it's the rebel in my blood._

_I regret not getting on the first train though, because my bench is quite full at the moment. A strange blonde girl dressed in short shorts, leg warmers, and a Beatles shirt is sat on the opposite side, with Patches in between us. I go through my purse to hand him my lunch money and as I do the girl gives me an odd look. Patches clearly doesn't approve and with her odd look she earns a bark from the man._

_I just laugh, mostly because I'm not sure how else one is supposed to react in this situation. I myself have never been barked at, and judging by the look on the blondes face, neither has she._

_Patches turns to give me a smile before getting up to leave, giving the girl an opportunity to decide to invade my personal space by shifting herself over to my side._

"_He barked at my mom once," the blonde says while whispering into my ear._

_I'm not sure if I smile at this comment, mostly because a smile is a foreign feeling to me these days._

_Usually I look at chicks as smokin' or sexy, but this one, she's beautiful. Beautiful is totally overused. But when used in the right context, and with honesty and other mushy feelings, I think it can be enough. Enough for what? I don't know._

_I never thought that mushy gut feeling that writers like Nicolas Sparks write about ever really existed when you meet someone, until now. God, and I don't even know her name._

_Stupid feelings like this lead to stupid choices and a shit-ton of angst. Yeah, Mr. Sparks, I've read your books. Love in real life doesn't work your way; in real life relationships mean lies, and lies mean heartbreak and that means no happy endings._

_She extends her hand forward to me, and I take it with caution. But since I've always been a strong believer in a firm handshake, so I do my best to keep calm keeping sure to make a good impression._

"_I'm Brittany S. Pierce," she says while slightly slurring the "S' and the 'Pierce' together to sound like 'Spears', "no relation to Britney Spears."_

"_Santana Lopez," I say back laughing a little while she vigorously shakes my hand up and down._

_I guess all those romantic mushy novelist guys are kind of right though; sometimes it only takes one moment to change your entire life.

* * *

_

I think love is just weird. Everyone expects it to be easy just like all the moments in a movie. You expect her to say the right thing at exactly the right time. She's supposed to read your mind and always know how you're feeling. Everything you do, she's supposed to know exactly how to handle it all. When you're upset she knows exactly how to fix it, and when you fight you expect her to come chase you down and make it all better. You rely completely on her and when things don't go the way you planned, you're completely crushed. But love isn't really a plan is it? It can't be written like a book with specific plots, and it most importantly never really comes to an end. Heartbreak is inevitable but you never expect it when it comes. The love, the feelings, they're what make up that blindfold and it keeps you blinded. And no matter how much you fight it to and no matter how much want to hate that person after all is said and done, you never will.

I never thought I'd ever buy into any of that crap. The love, the mush, it was never me. I thought it could never be me.

* * *

"_Do you always miss your train on purpose, or is today just a special occasion?" Brittany asks after finally releasing my hand._

"_Do you always ask strangers weird questions, or did I just get lucky today?" I challenge._

"_We're not strangers though. You're Santana and I'm Brittany, we shook hands and now I know you and you know me. We're practically best friends now."_

_I quirk an eyebrow, confused._

"_Best friends, huh?" _

_She nods, "Yep, best friends."_

_

* * *

_

Love finds you I guess, it's not easy and you'll probably never understand it; I sure as hell don't. I think that love is that moment when you're fighting and you both are yelling so loud that you lose track of what you're even saying, but you both keep yelling because you have to keep each other together. It's the kind of yelling you do simply because you love them. It's like when your parents later apologize for yelling at you, not because they were wrong, but because you needed to hear what they had to say.

Love is seriously weird. You don't realize how much it's worth, and how different you acted when you had it, and you don't grasp the concept behind it until you realize that it meant more to you than it ever did to her.

* * *

"_Britt, you can't just disappear for days at a time and think that when you come back I'll be here with open freakin' arms to take you in," I'm screaming at her... I never scream at her._

_Four days though, she was gone for four days. It was like she had completely vanished off the face of the Earth and every time I tried to find her she just got further away. _

_If there's one thing about Brittany that I'll never understand, it's her lack of consistency._

_She's just looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes, and when she screams back with more intensity than me, I'm rendered speechless._

"_I can do whatever I want Santana, it's not like I'm your girlfriend, remember?"_

_I pace. I'm scared so I pace and I yell and pace and yell some more._

"_You're my best friend, Brittany. You're all I have and you know that. You can't just leave like that. You can't just leave me alone to think you're dead or something. Maybe I can't be who you want me to be right now, but you're something okay? You're something and it scares me shitless and I just need to know you're alive."_

_Silence isn't golden, whoever said that is an idiot. Silence is scary. Silence is fucking terrifying. Because Brittany is standing here completely silent looking at me with a look that says nothing at all, and I just spilled my guts all over the place._

_She doesn't say anything, and neither do I. She just walks toward me, grabs my face while looking me dead in the eyes._

"_I'm alive, Santana."_

_Then she leaves.

* * *

_

Love is those times when you fight so much that you truly think the relationship is over, but she shows up the next day pretending nothing happened anyway. Love isn't all the things you like about her though. It's not all the cute things she says or how you act around people. It's not holding hands or stealing glances at each other. It's the fact what when you're together, and even apart, you keep each other grounded. Love is when you hand someone your heart, and trust them enough to either completly crush it, or keep it safe. It's being together, and being so scared of what's really between you, and knowing shes just as scared so it makes everything okay.

* * *

_Two in the morning and someone's knocking at my door. Two in the freakin' morning on a Friday night and someone has the nerve to make me get out of my warm bed. This better be important._

_Sleeping naked has it's downfalls in moments like these considering I have to scramble find my rob while this idiot bangs on my door._

_After finally finding I walk out of my room to unlock my door. I don't even bother to look through the peephole, I just open the door._

"_Hey San! I'm alive, and I brought cookies," Brittany says as she walks passed me all chipper with a skip in her step._

_Yesterday we were fighting and now it's two in the morning and she's sitting on the floor in front of the television with a dozen cookies flipping through channels before finding Spongebob. She takes a cookie out of the bag and extends her hand toward me. _

"_Chocolate chip?" I ask._

"_Chocolate chip," she replies.

* * *

_

Things always seem more promising when your head is clouded by the moment. You don't see the possible landslides, you just focus on climbing the mountain. You just climb with your blindfold on, screaming at the top of your lungs. You're happy. Something inside of you is just... happy. You stop caring about all the bad things. You stop worrying about the what if's. You climb the mountain because you know at the top of it, could be, should be, might actually be, love.

That's where I messed up. I climbed all the way up the damn mountain just to ride the landslide all the way to the bottom. But Brittany took the easy way out, because she's still up there, slowly climbing back down the way we came. With every new step, she's forgetting the last.

* * *

"_I think you should miss the next train too," the blond girl says after a while of silence._

_I weight my options, the biggest being the fact that some weird stranger is asking me to miss work and that could end in some brutal murder. Seriously though isn't this the perfect set up for a Steven King novel? Random girl comes into this hot woman's life, gets all involved and then out of nowhere turns into some weird monster thing and eats said hot woman... this situation has serial killer written all over it._

"_You're not some creepy serial killer, right?" I ask half serious and half jokingly._

_She looks confused and says, "I don't really like cereal, I'm more of a pancake kind of girl."_

_I laugh. I **really** laugh as she stand up and offers me her hand._

"_Come on, let's go on an adventure."_

_I follow her. I'm not sure why, but I follow her._

_

* * *

_

Love drives us all insane and we can't be accountable for our actions while we're in it. We get so caught up that we don't even worry about going too far. Because with love you can't draw lines, you can't box yourself in and just play it safe. You have to go there, scare yourself silly, and keep doing it over and over. All the hardships won't matter in the long run, everything will be worth it as long as it's just you and her. That's what happiness is about, right? If you play it safe what do you really have? Nothing, because without all the tears and emotions you wouldn't ever feel complete.

Love is simply finding that person that completes you. Love is completing someone else.

The worst part though, is that it's not only your heart that's at stake, it's hers too. Anyway, it is until she erases you out of her life.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all so much for the support on this story and all of that jazz. A few people have said some things have been a little confusing flashback wise so I'll take a second to explain a little bit. This story is from Santana's point of view and she's reflecting on her past with Brittany, while trying to decide how she wants to proceed with her life knowing that she remembers everything while Brittany remembers nothing. The flashbacks are all just memories, which is why they aren't in chronological order of when they happened. They're all linked but aren't presented at the same time so it's like I've chopped them into scenes, if that makes sense? Anyhow if you have any questions about it just ask. This AN is too long so onto the story :]!**

Sometimes, most of the time, life is stupid. Everything is so stupid and we're all just drowning in this huge puddle of stupidity. And I'm not just drowning because I can't swim, I'm drowning because all the idiots around me can't swim either. It's fine though, the idiots can keep stacking up so I can walk up them like stairs. Not that we ever know where we're walking to. It's so hard to find who you are and where you are supposed to go because the idiots are piled up so high. One person wants you to go this way, but you want to go somewhere else while another person says you should go the other way, and it's stupid. There are supposedly all these paths to success and happiness, but I don't see them. I must be on the wrong one or something... did I mention that it's stupid?

* * *

"_Come on San, it won't be cold I promise," Brittany says while trying to drag me into this lake. A lake. A dirty, germ infested, animal shat in, lake. This is disgusting. Even if I could swim I would not be stepping foot in it._

"_This water is not chlorinated, which means this chica does not wants to get her swim on in it."_

_Brittany is pouting and I think it's supposed to be cute but I'm not letting it get to me. I should have gone to work, where we have no nasty lakes. _

"_I think you're scared. Santana is scared! Scared scared scared, just like a rooster," Brittany exclaims!_

_I'm not scared. It's just disgusting. I should have suggested coffee or breakfast, at least that way we'd get to stay dry._

"_Please, Santana Lopez eats fear for breakfast. And it's chickens, not roosters."_

_Brittany smirks and I immediately know it means she's got an idea and I'm screwed._

"_Good, then you can come swimming with me," she says while tip toeing into the water as she tosses her shirt behind her._

_I raise an eyebrow as she not only removes her shorts, but her bra too. I'm pretty sure I roll my eyes all the way down to the water as I too remove my clothes. Two can play that game._

_

* * *

_

Drowning is boring. You thrash around for a while until you realize you're just screwed anyway and then it's a waiting game. You're either going to die, or someone is going to come save you. I was drowning all my life and then this crazy blonde girl rushed in and pulled me from the water. Normally that would be cool and make for a good Bay Watch episode, but trust me, it wasn't cool.

Everyone always talks about love and how amazing it is. They write movies about how it saves people and makes life rainbows and sunshine. The guy is a tortured soul and this goody-good bombshell saves him from himself and it's beautiful and disgusting, the end. But they don't teach you what happens when it's not a boy and a girl.

I was drowning, and my lifeguard wasn't who I wanted it to be. I was dragged from one body of water to an entirely new one where I was left to start drowning all over again.

I built my life on appearances. Everything was about being accepted and about being better than everyone else. Except with Brittany, I learned quickly that to feel accepted you have to become someone you later will hate, and to be yourself you have to be rejected.

* * *

_She's splashing me and I'm splashing her and it's almost like nothing matters anymore except who can splash the highest. Anyway, it was all that mattered until now as Brittany tries to coax me deeper into the lake._

"_I skipped out on breakfast we should go eat, yeah? Lunch on me?" _

_Brittany just shakes her head and curls her finger in a 'come hither' motion as she swims further into the distance where the water begins to get deeper and deeper. I keep my ground, I'm not abouts to drown in the middle of some mucky lake with some crazy stranger. No way. Not happening._

_She swims back to where I'm standing comfortably in the water that just barely covers my tits. Being almost a head taller than me means that she she stands I have a clear view of her rack and I make a mental note to thank my parents for never giving me swimming lessons. I may be straight, or something, but I can appreciate a good rack, right? No big deal, it's just boobs anyway._

_

* * *

_

No one has a personality anymore, everyone is just trying so hard to be exactly the same. It's like seeing everything in the world as black and white; nothing is different. You just keep waiting for someone or something to come and color it all up, make everything appear more appealing.

Brittany though... now she has a personality. I was trying to think of words to describe it, it being her personality, but there aren't any. It's evident in her smile and in the way she laughs. It's easy to see, even at first glance, that she isn't like everyone else. She's somewhat awkward but at the same time very well composed. She's confident without being cocky. She's quiet and prefers to speak in tones rather than in words. I wish there was a single word to describe her. If there was, I'd finally be able to rest my mind for a moment because I find that I spend so much time trying to figure her out. More time now then when she was around. Especially more time now that she doesn't remember.

She colored me. With crayon. She didn't go for the permanent markers because I don't think she knew how to deal with anything concrete. She colored my life from the beginning. Strangers have never clicked so well until we met each other. Life had never been so full of rainbows and ducks until she came along. But it was colored with crayon, and eventually crayon fades. I wanted to trace everything in with a sharpie because from the first awkward conversation I had with her on her couch, I knew I wanted her to become a permanent fixture in my life. She made me believe she did too. She colored me with crayons but she disguised them as sharpies tricking me into a mindset of permanence.

* * *

"_Come back with me, to my house," Brittany said as she and I pulled our clothes back on. It was slightly uncomfortable considering we were both still dripping wet. She didn't seem to mind so I ignored it the best I could so she wouldn't notice. I think I nodded though I can't be sure because I'm watching her lips move while I ignore the sound that's coming out of them. They're animated in a way that puts me into some kind of trance and I'm only drawn away when she grabs my hand and starts dragging me away._

"_I'm taking this awkward silence as a yes and you have no choice in the matter."_

_I stay quiet while we walk. Mostly because I'm not sure what to say. Words don't always work for me. They come out all wrong and never sound as nicely as they do when other people say them. So I just don't._

"_You don't talk much. It's okay though, it doesn't bother me. I can just pretend you're a mime," Brittany says as we reach what I believe is her apartment building. I make a 'I'm stuck in a box' motion and she laughs. I laugh because she does. I laugh because hers is contagious._

"_I'm not sure my life is much to talk about. I mostly work and sleep. I don't have much of an in between."_

_She shakes her head._

"_Well then I'll be your in between. It'll be great. We're soulmates."_

_I raise my eyebrows at the use of what I thought was a very intimate term._

"_Soulmates?"_

_She nods._

"_We're perfect for each other, San. My life is moving super fast so I can experience everything before I have nothing. Life is too short not to have an in between. I can speed you up, and you can slow me down a little. But not too much, I don't want to become boring."_

_

* * *

_

I knew from the word soulmates things were going to be intense. Because that word made me realize what had been happening to me that day. It made me realize that I was falling for her. For a girl. For a strange girl that no one else would ever quite understand. For someone that was completely and utterly the opposite of everything I was. For someone that would finally hurt me instead of the other way around.

I've always been a bitch, but it's because I've been angry. I've always been angry because I never knew how to deal with my feelings. I never knew how to deal with my feelings because I was taught they were wrong. It was easier to date and dump countless boys than putting myself out into a world of flannel to be ridicule. I was angry because I couldn't be myself.

Brittany called me her soulmate that day.

I saw her today. She was on the train a few seats in front of me. She was listening to music and bobbing her head. She was lip synching the lyrics and people were starring but she didn't care. She was the same Brittany I used to know. I think that's what hurt the most about it... about seeing her again.

When I found out about the doctor and the mind erasing I thought it was a joke. I heard about it from a friend of Brittany's named Artie. He was a doctor and they had met way back in high school. He wasn't around very much but when he was I didn't like it. He was always around when there was bad news. Mainly for Brittany but it somehow always affected me as well.

He called me and told me she had gotten me erased. It sounded outrageous. I had spoken to her the day before and though things hadn't been exactly good, they hadn't been completely bad either. We fought a lot but it was never enough to mess anything up. We never meant the things we said during fights and the next day we'd always pretend the didn't happen.

He told me that she remembered everything from the day before we met. He told me that everything after that was just a blur for her now.

And then he told me he found a note asking him to ask me to stay away from her.

* * *

"_You kissed him."_

_She had her arms crossed tightly at her chest. It was a sign that she was angry. All the while I'm holding my head in my hands, a sign that she once again is being delusional._

"_When he was here I told him I was seeing someone else," she rolls her eyes, "I told him I was happy to see him, but not the way he wanted to see me. Why are you freaking out?"_

_She shifted uncomfortably and rolled her eyes again. "You kissed him."_

"_It was a goodbye kiss, Brittany. Him and I dated on and off for five years, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to do."_

_Another eye roll._

"_Because you love him?"_

_I shake my head and sigh because she doesn't get it. She never gets it._

"_Because I love you, okay? It was hard because I love you and that's hard. Loving you is hard. Being with him was easy because he had a dick and I had boobs and it just was easy. Telling him to go back to Ohio was me getting rid of anyone that isn't you. I kissed him because it was the last time I was ever going to willingly see him, because the only person I want to see is you."_

_She shakes her head and makes her way to the door._

"_If loving me is so hard, then you can just forget about me."_

_As she opens the door I shout at her, "Oh because it's that easy right? You can walk into someones life and then walk right out and just forget about them? You can fall in love and just leave all fine and dandy. That's how life works right?"_

_She looks back before walking out completely. With sad eyes she says, "It can be that easy, just watch."_

_

* * *

_

I never liked Artie. I could never get over the wheelchair and the 'poor me' complex he had. But he told me something. Something which made me think he wasn't all too bad. He told me that I should try again... he told me that Brittany and I were soulmates.


	4. Chapter 4

**End of the year graduation bullshit is making my life crazy so I apologize for this being so short, and for it taking as long as it did. I promise a super long update mid next week!**

It is kind of funny how we can fall so easily back into old routines and habits. When you have something you always assume \ you wouldn't be able to continue life without... But you can continue without it. You compensate. Mostly because you have to. Usually because you need to cope but don't know how since you don't want to deal with the real problems and feelings. So you make something up for a while, put on a facade. But eventually you go back to doing what is safe and easy. You go back to feeling comfortable with being miserable.

Every day I'm late to work, I take the same trains, and I most importantly do not make any thoughts what so ever to being spontaneous. I stick to my every day boring set of motions. I guess I find it funny because of how much I let Brittany change me... How much I wanted to change. She made me into a better more happy person and without her I retreated back into things that I used to know.

We want things that are safe because we know they won't hurt us. It's so much easier to make changes when we have someone else with us because we know that we are not alone if something goes wrong. We need people because without them we don't care as much another happiness as we do about being safe and about feeling our feelings unhurt. When we are alone we want simplicity, when we are with others we want complexity because taking chances is thrilling in pairs.

I can remember those days where Brittany would have me call in sick so her and I could go lay in a field and watch clouds. I never once saw the shapes that she did, nor did I see any shapes of my own. They were just freaking puffy clouds and watching them was stupid... At first.

After a while I began to pretend I could see the shapes she saw. I stared to make things up and trick my eyes into believing things as well. Effectively I was lying, yes, because I was claiming to see things when in reality all I saw was fluff... But it was forcing me to look at things differently. It forced me to take on new perspectives about things that were bigger than clouds...

Things like feelings. Feelings like love. I think Brittany was far smarter than she could ever understand because while we were just making shapes out of clouds I fully believe her intent behind it was to force me to learn how to change my perspectives so that in time I could become less narrow minded. I think the tall blond girl was a master manipulator who had only wanted to stick around long enough to change people into better individuals who would benefit the world...

Boy, did that back fire.

I think she did it all of the time to many people. She always told stories of other cities and states and people that she'd been with. She would tell me how they would be so unhappy about where their lives were headed but she had helped change that. None of it clicked at first because maybe I was too blinded by the feelings I had for her or maybe the lust of the situations but if I could have seen what her intent was i would have known things would end this way. But she made a mistake with me. She fell in love with me just as much as I did with her and she couldn't back out of it this time. She had to erase me to move on. She had to take me out of the equation because she had messed up her signs in the problem. She loved me, and that was never apart of her plan. I was the negative number in her life equation and she was only supposed to be working with positives.

* * *

_"It kind looks like a duck if you squint your eyes," Brittany says._

_I shake my head, even though I know she can't see it since we are laying side by side and her focus is clearly on the sky. My focus However isn't aimed up, it's aimed at her._

_"It looks like all of the other clouds," I say knowing it will yet a response out of the blonde._

_She sighs mostly because we have had this conversation a thousand times._

_"San you have got to use your imagination or you're going to get old super fast, and old people are boring. Plus if you can't find something in he clouds you'll never be able to find fun stuff in any situation," she tells me clearly annoyed that she has to say this to me every time that we come here._

_Truth be told, I just like to hear her speak. Especially on things that she is passionate about. When she gets serious her brow furrows and her nose scrunches in the most adorable way._

_"That's why you at least have to try, okay? For me?"_

_We lay in silence for a while until Brittany begins to stir next to me._

_"Can I ask you something San?"_

_I don't answer, I just nod as I can sense her eyes on me._

_"What does love feel like?" she asks and then looks away from me to focus up at the sky again._

_I stay silent, not being able to find the right words... _

_What does love feel like? _

_Is this love... _

_Is what Brittany and I have together love? _

_I think it is. _

_It sure does seem like it..._

_What does love feel like?_

_She sighs, "because I think I know but I'm not sure."_

_"Well, what do you think it feels like then," I ask?_

_With that question she gets up from her spot in the grass and straddles my hips. She just looks at me for a second before lowering herself to my lips. It is a slow kiss, kind of like the ones you see in those sappy lovey movies. She pulls away slowly and then rests her forehead against mine. I can feel my heart threaten to rip out of my chest._

_"I think that's what it feels like," she whispers._

_I kind of nod, at least I think I do before bringing myself forward a bit to press our lips together once more._

* * *

She wasn't supposed to fall in love. We were never supposed to be anything more than a fling. But she loved me and she told me so. How do you forget someone you love? I've never been one for feelings, usually I just wants my mackin' and a good lay, but she made change that. I may have been some kind of community service project to her at first but as soon as love came into play I got the impression that maybe, just maybe, that forever did exist. I thought maybe all of those stupid chick flicks and cheesy novels were right; in the end happy endings always prevail...

Holy hell was I wrong.

**AN: Next chapter we get to meet Brittany and her freshly erased mind, be ready. Review and such please, comments would be lovely as would some constructive criticism.**


	5. Chapter 5

Expectations suck. I think God made them so he could watch us from Heaven as we get ourselves so high up for letdowns. Expectations cut through our minds like Ginsu knives. They rip out our organs through our noses and leave a horrible empty feeling in our guts. Expectations excite us and build us up to break us down. We spend hours building houses out of cards and then right before we finish God sneezes to knock everything down. We walk up eighty flights of stairs to fall right before reaching the last. We run one thousand miles to be told we're too late. We think so much. We assume so many things. We're so fucking optimistic that when things finally do go wrong we can't understand why.

Well, I can tell you why. God, or whoever is up there, is a sick fuck. He likes to watch us fail. Likes to see us think a little. He gave us expectations to teach us not to expect things in a world of uncertainties. Except we're too damn stupid to realize it until after it's already happened. We're always going to keep having expectations because without them we'd never be excited or motivated.

We're all like damn lab rats. That's all we are until we die.

Part of me never thought today was going to happen. I can't explain to you why I thought I'd never see her again or that I'd never have to really deal with this, but for some strange reasons I did. I had expectations of always being this pathetic robot who'd seen love once and then lost it. I was perfectly fucking okay with that too, until today.

I honestly expected never to see Brittany again. I thought I could go through my life without having to face her. I was wrong. Life isn't that easy. Especially not for me.

When I was little I used to believe in things. Dumb things mostly like in Santa Claus or that if you eat spinach you'll grow massively disgusting muscles. I never really understood believing in love or anything. With my parents being who they are that isn't surprising. But I did believe in things. Beliefs bring on expectations. If you believe in Santa Claus you expect fat men to break into your house and give you shit. Cause and effect relationships I guess... that's what beliefs and expectations are.

Actions and events change beliefs though. You see your mothers handwriting on a present from Santa Claus and you learn that he's a fake, an impostor. Then you stop expecting fat men to bring you shit and you realize there really isn't a naughty or nice list so you can be a bitch and still get presents because your parents feel so bad about never being around that they have to buy you things to make you feel better.

Beliefs and expectations are best friends... and they suck. Today totally proves it too...

**Expectation:**

Living a life where memories are the only escape from hell. Being comfortable with it. Embracing it. Never actually dealing with consequences because life is too short. Never acting on impulses because you're alone. Falling into habits. Not breaking those habits.

Waking up.

Going to work.  
Leaving work.  
Grabbing dinner.  
Going home.  
Sleeping.

Repeat until death.

**Reality:**

Crying every morning remembering what's been lost. Trying to avoid memories because they hurt more than the present. Hating yourself for things that cannot be changed. Wanting to be something, but still never knowing exactly what. Wanting... Wishing... Anticipating... for nothing. Crying until energy is reduced to nothing and reckless sleep takes over.

Waking up.

Going to work.

Grabbing dinner at the diner that your ex-girlfriend who erased you now works at...

Wait. _What_?

**Action:**

Sneaking behind the hostesses desk and stealing a random name tag and vest. Pretending to bus tables. Following Brittany around without her knowing. Effectively becoming a stalker. Pretty much become Miley Stewart and scheme some stupid shit that ends really really really badly.

* * *

"_You can't tell me you don't see it! Those bubbles in the sink totally look like a bunny," Brittany exclaims to the blonde girl standing behind her._

_I'm hiding behind a rather large, rather smelly, garbage can. Which is ridiculous. I'm twenty eight years old I shouldn't be this immature... but fuck it. She's talking._

"_I just don't see it, they look like bubbles to me," the blonde says._

_I want to slap her. Seriously, why can't the bitch just play along? If Britt sees a bunny, then there is a fucking bunny there... damn._

"_If you don't have an imagination you..."_

_I'm plugging my ears. Because I know exactly what she's going to say. Because she's said it to me. She's given me this speech. She's beaten it into me with kisses and false promises of forever._

_I'm plugging my ears because I can't hear this. I can't hear those words right now from someone who doesn't remember ever saying them before._

_I take my hands off my ears at the right... or maybe at the wrong time because she's stopped mid-sentence with a confused expression on her face._

_The girl, Quinn I think her name-tag says, is waving her hand in front of Brittany's face._

"_Oh sorry I just... remembered something and it was like deja-vu," Brittany says still confused, "it's like I was repeating myself I guess, or said it before... uh forget it I have tables." She walks off with her notepad at hand while grabbing a few straws to tuck into her back pocket._

_She remembered... kind of. Which means..._

_I can't let her completely forget._

_I grab a napkin and reach into my purse for a pen... which of course I don't have. I pull out my lipstick and scribble "pinky promise" onto the napkin before folding it up. I look around and spot Brittany's worn backpack stuffed under a counter. _

_I wait for Quinn to walk off to help a customer before crawling over to the backpack and slipping the napkin into the first zipper I could get open. I stand up and come face to face with Quinn._

_She quirks an eyebrow and looks at my name-tag, "Something tells me that you aren't Marcus."_

_I shrug off the vest, apologize, and walk out but not before taking another look at Brittany who is now looking through her backpack. I stop as she pulls out the napkin. I speed walk out before I can see her reaction._

* * *

**Belief:**

Things can be repressed but never forgotten. They can be pushed to the side but never fully hidden. Our minds are huge filing cabinets and files get lost. However, they can always be found. Wikipedia is always correct. Especially when it says that not all mind erasing procedures are permanent. Wikipedia is a website based on correct knowledge. Especially when it says that things such as words, colors, pictures, objects, and sounds can trigger memories to resurface.

Brittany's procedure was defective. Brittany was going to remember.

**Expectation:**

Living happily ever after. Making Brittany remember good things, rather than bad things. Not making mistakes once she remembers. Getting married. Having two point five children. Adopting a duck. Growing old...

Keeping pinky promises.

* * *

"_Brittany stop that tickles," I yell as she's on top of me tickling my sides. She's been going at this for hours. One second we'd be mackin' the next she'd be ticking me like a freakin' mad women. _

_She stops and laughs as if she's done the funniest thing in the world. _

_It's moments like these when it seems like love stops times. We're just happy and nothing else matters. _

_She leans down to kiss the tip of my nose before getting off from on top of me to lay next to me instead. She links our pinkies, and I turn to her confused. I don't have to even ask what she's doing before she starts to explain._

"_You'll never forget me, right," she asks?_

_She does this all of the time. Asks questions like this. Questions that scare me. Like she's planning on leaving or something._

"_No. How could I?"_

_She shrugs and tightens her grip on my pinky._

"_Some people forget things that's all. My friends mom got amnesia and like forgot everything when she was old..."_

_I don't correct her and explain that it's Alzheimer's not amnesia. Mostly because she's scaring me with this conversation and I don't want her to stop talking. I just want to understand where this conversation is going._

"_It was really sad. She tried so hard to remember but kept forgetting. I just... pinky promise that you won't forget me?"_

_I raise our pinkies._

_"I'd never let you forget, B."_

_She gives a small smile before whispering, "Promise?"_

_"I promise."_

* * *

I've never claimed to be a good person. I lie. I cheat. I steal your boyfriends. I'm the name on your girlfriends lips and the curse in her hips... I do bad things. I'm not proud of it... okay maybe I am, but if there is one thing I've always made sure to do, no matter what, it's keeping my promises.

Expectations suck. But right now I don't give a fuck because maybe this time they won't. I'm a hypocrite. I'm optimistic even though I don't believe in optimism. I have expectations of good things even though I only believe in the bad. But you know what? Maybe for once in my life my expectations, of helping Brittany remember, will actually show through. Because I need her. I need her. We're soulmates. Artie said so. Brittany is my soulmate. I'm her soulmate. She needs me. I know she still needs me.

You can't erase that.

You can't hide that.

It's always there.

Somewhere in that filing cabinet.

It's just hidden.

Like hide and seek.

I've just got to help her find it all.

I've just got to show her.

**Reality:**

Waiting. Wanting. Wishing. Anticipating... for something.

Crying because things could get better. Crying because things could get worse. Scheming ways to run into Brittany again. Losing sleep because sleep is for the dead and in this moment there is more important things that sleep. Gathering every memory triggering thing. Planning. Crying more because reality sucks. Crying even more because the expectations are deadly. Reading Wikipedia like life depends on it.

**Action:**

Not sleeping.

Skipping work.

Going to a field to watch clouds.

Leaving a wildflower in Brittany's backpack.

Going home.

Scheming until late.

Drinking coffee to stay alive.

Repeat.

**AN: Okay so I hope I didn't offend anyone with my whole little God rant at the beginning. Sorry if I did though. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Reviews would be lovely. :]**


	6. Chapter 6

Do you ever want to feel something so strongly that you just want the thrust yourself into traffic? I mean I know it would hurt like a bitch but that's kind of the point. Feeling just to feel is better than becoming completely numb because numbness is the emptiest feeling on this planet. I spent my entire life growing up numbly until I met Brittany. It's funny because I used to love feeling numb. I loved not relying on anyone but me. But now I'm throwing myself into traffic every day by walking into that diner. Brittany works from 6pm to close every weekday and occasionally picks up the morning shift on Sunday. Most days she has her hair up in a tight ponytail and she always, always has a smile on her face. I'm pretty sure that I feel everything when I walk into the diner every day at 6:30pm. I feel excited. I feel scared. I feel hurt. I feel sorrow. I feel regret. I feel hopeful. And every day when I'm greeted at 6:35pm and asked to 'follow this way' I still feel the invisible handcuffs hand keep us forever bonded tightly pulling at my wrist.

Legend has it that Santana Lopez was born a snarky bitch that lacked feelings of any kind. Rumor has it that Santana Lopez has grown a heart in the pit of despair that is her chest.

* * *

_Three weeks ago Brittany was my waitress and ever since whenever she sees me walk into the diner she rushes over from whatever it is she's doing to seat me. I laugh as she almost spills coffee onto some old women to excuse herself from the table to walk in my direction. It's something that is simply Brittany and the smile on her face as she greets me speaks a million words and no words at all._

_For the past three weeks I've restrained myself from anything but small talk with her. She brings my coffee and I smile and nod a thank you. She brings out my salad and I ask for extra dressing and she leaves to go get it. She brings it out with an apologetic looks because she always forgets to bring it initially._

_The past three weeks have been a robotic dance between us. We ignore the fact that I send her lingering glances every once in a while. We never speak about anything but the weather, or work. We pretend that she doesn't always look slightly confused about knowing me from somewhere, and I by no means ever, and I mean ever, ask about the lipstick stained napkin that she keeps in her pocket next to her notepad._

"_Follow this way," she says grinning as we walk to the third table from the end, the one next to the window. _

_It's the one with the good napkin holder I've come to realize because people often ask if they can borrow my napkins. It's the one she seats me at every day as I promptly sit down at 6:38pm._

_I don't say anything as she sets a glass of water in front of the seat that I always take. She walks away to put in my order without me having to say anything._

_Call me insane, but I can't help but think she feels something too when I'm around. Maybe the handcuffs aren't so invisible. Maybe she can see them and feel them the same way I do. Maybe she feels the metal cutting at her wrists threatening to make the bleed whenever we're apart. Or maybe I'm an idiot who clings to her wishful thinking far too much… But why else would she bother waiting on me every day? Why wouldn't she let Quinn, or someone else take my order? Call me insane, but I'm pretty sure my plan is working. Slowly. Like a turtle race. But working nonetheless._

_She comes back to set my salad in front of me and I can't help but notice the bracelet on her wrist; her side of the cuffs. I self-consciously move my own hand under the table and thank her for the salad as I grab a napkin and fiddle with my phone to look busy._

* * *

You know those silly gifts you start to buy for someone once you start dating? The ones you really have no idea why the hell you bought until you're handing them off with a shy smirk on your face? Santana Lopez never did things like that. Okay that's a lie, she did once…

* * *

"_What is it? What is it? What is it?" Brittany asks me while jumping up and down like a toddler. _

_Sometimes I don't understand why I hate kids so much considering she still is one._

"_If I told you that would defeat the purpose of me learning how to wrap the damn box now, wouldn't it?" I tell her in a motherly tone. _

_Which now that I think about it is kind of creepy, you know, comparing us to mother and child when my plan for the night is to get her naked and have my way with her multiple times._

_She sends me a glare and I wink, like I always do, as I watch her open the box. It's kind of stupid that I had to Google how to wrap it considering the jeweler told me he could have done it but it would have been an extra fifteen bucks and I was spending enough money anyway. I kind of cringe as she tears off the paper since I spent almost two hours wrapped the devil box but the cringe disappears when a smile breaks out onto her face._

"_Two bracelets, San? One for each wrist, right?" she asks me holding both silver heart charmed bracelets up grinning ear to ear._

_I laugh and shake my head, "No, B. One is for you and one is for me. Like we match and stuff," I say almost shyly because now that I've given it to her it seems really stupid and Hallmarky and I am anything but… well I mean I am kind of now but that isn't the point._

"_Oh so it's kind of like handcuffs then? Well not really cause they aren't connected but it means we're connected. Like a super cool invisible bond or something," Brittany explains to me while walking over to put the second bracelet onto my wrist._

"_I love it, Santana. It's really cute. Really thoughtful. Really mushy and nice," she tells me and I'm sure I frown, "Which means I've made you go soft, I approve," she laughs pecking me quickly on the lips before stepping away to put her own bracelet on._

_Santana Lopez gone soft, that's a joke… right?_

* * *

You ever feel something too much that you just wish you could freeze time for a second so you could just calm your tits? I mean sure feeling is good because it means you're not some psychopath but feeling too much sucks. Almost sucks enough that when I left the diner I skipped a day before going back. Not necessarily because I wasn't hungry or didn't want to see Brittany but mostly because I was worried to how she was going to react with what I left the day before…

* * *

_She came back to refill my drink singing this weird song quietly. It's weird but I guess I shouldn't be surprised considering its Brittany. But it's a song about a cup so… it's just weird._

"_My cup, my cup, sayin' what's up to my cup!" she sings softly. _

_She places the cup back down in front of me and takes my now empty salad plate. I'm pretty sure she asks me if I'd like anything else and I just shake my head as I watch the heart on her bracelet sway with her movements. I keep my hand under the table in my lap and my eyes glued to hers._

"_I'll be right back with your check then, San," she says walking away with a confused look on her face._

_Have I told her my name? She called me San. San. San is a nickname for Santana. Even if somehow she had heard my name or if I told her without remembering a stranger wouldn't all of the sudden use a nickname. When I meet someone named Ashley I wouldn't call them Ash right away. Actually I probably wouldn't care about her name and I'd make some clever name up for her but… she called me San._

_I pull my wallet out of my purse and grab a twenty and a ten and set it on the table for when Brittany comes back. I always give her a big tip mostly because I know waitresses don't make shit and because she's Brittany so I'd hand her a hundred if she asked for it._

_I grab a napkin and unclasp my bracelet from my wrist and place it on top of the napkin. I redo the clasp and lay the heart charm flat against the table. I reach for my lipstick in my purse and I open it. I tap the handle a few times thinking of what to write on the napkin this time._

_I scribble, "One for each wrist," and place a second napkin on top of the bracelet so that the blond won't be able to see it once she comes back._

_I pull out my mirror and reapply my lipstick to look less suspicious to the people around me and I put them both away as Brittany walks back over to my table._

_She comes back and takes the money and I just smile saying that I don't need to see the bill and that I hope she has a good night. She smiles softly and crinkles her nose telling me goodbye as I walk toward the door. I stop before leaving to see her pick up the napkin and I walk out before seeing her reaction._

* * *

Handcuffs are tricky. Escaping them is near impossible if they're secured properly. Breaking them is near impossible unless you're some freak with super human strength and even then you still have the cuffs clasped on your wrists. Gnawing and chewing at them does no damage to the cuffs themselves, only to you. Struggling only cuts at your wrists and pains you.

Bottom line, if you get cuffed, you're stuck. It's worse because you never even get to choose who you're cuffed to. It just happens. It's like there's this plan all laid out for you and whoever you're cuffed to you're just stuck with. Doesn't matter if you love them or grow to hate them. You're stuck. Somehow they will always be pulling at your wrist. Cutting it every now and again to draw blood and make you ache. The pain is constant and there is no way out.

There isn't a key. That's the trick. They purposely don't make keys. There are two cuffs and no keys and you're stuck.

Love is binding. Love is tricky. Love is being locked together to someone for eternity never being able to escape. Love is never being able to run because you become attached to someone else. There is not a way around it. You will always be pulled. You will always be cut. And you are always going to ache because of it. There is no lock. There is no key. There is just love, and you're fucking stuck.

**I suck at updating lately, I apologize. Life has thrown me a few curve balls but it's summer now and I've graduated high school so I have a lot more time on my hands to write. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, don't forget to review :]**


	7. Chapter 7

AN:

I'm not one who works off of getting reviews but I'm just curious as to if anyone is even reading this anymore, because I'm weary about continuing this story if there just isn't any interest in it. So if people ARE still reading and want me to continue PM me, review, do something to let me know you're still there.

I have this fic planned out so I know exactly where it's going so I'd rather not abandon it but I just don't know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to those who have encouraged me to continue.**

You don't know what you've had until you've lost it. 'They' always say that. I don't know who they is, but if I ever meet them I'd kick their asses considering they are life ruiners. The bitches think that they can say all of this deep shit for no reason at all and make people emotional wrecks because all their deep shit is right when I really want them to be wrong. Whoever they are, wherever they are, they better watch it because I'm pretty sure I'm not the only angry angsty bitch who has a need to whip her razors back and forth on their asses.

Watching Brittany now makes me realize that 'they' are always fucking right. Because I now know how much I used to take her for granted. The small touches here and there, the soft kisses just because, they're all missed now when before they could go unnoticed. You miss things when they're gone, and don't realize them when they're there. It sucks. Fucking sucks.

And then there are times where I wonder if she remembers anything too. The hints I've left, do they bring up memories? Do they do anything? Or do they just make me look like some stalker freak?

Does she miss the high we always had while we were together?

I miss the high. I never knew it was there until it was gone. But when I did finally notice it I wanted it. Craved it. Physically needed it every second of every day. She had me high. I'm addicted and I didn't even know.

Now that I'm coming down I'm falling nearing the ground with every moment passing. Free falling into an idea that I refuse to possess or think about; I may never be high again.

I don't want to come down. I don't want to come around to that idea. I waited too long to let her in and now I've lost it all…

* * *

"_Come on Santana, how'd you get the scar?" she asks poking at my rib cage. Brittany asks the question every day. The skinny mark beneath my left breast always was begging her to get the story out of me._

"_Let it go," I reply as always. _

_She pouts and I roll my eyes. I cannot stand it when she pouts. "You never tell me anything about your past, I'm just curious that's all."_

* * *

Too long I denied her the right to get into my head when I was already so far into hers. We stopped trying to fight for each other because it hurt too much. She was always crying. I thought I was saving her; all I ever wanted to do was save her. There are moments where I truly believe she is better without me now. I'm no longer in her head as I was before. I'm now only the weird customer who never changes her order and occasionally leaves creepy presents. I cannot help but toy with the idea that she's better now. Happy now.

I've done drugs before. I've done some bad shit. Smoked shit. Popped pills that I didn't even know the names of. But never have I ever gotten the high I had when I was with Brittany.

I want to save her. All I've ever wanted to do was save her. But after all… maybe I'm not meant to be that person.

After a long debate I figure that going to the diner is inevitable because until I go back I'm not going to stop thinking. Thinking is dangerous. Thinking causes rage, and rage is bad. Rage is drinking and crying because you can't hold your emotions in for shit when you're drunk.. or maybe that's just me.

* * *

_My hands in my pocket and my head bowed to the ground I walk into the diner and lean against the hostess' podium, nervous after the bracelet with how weird that probably came off._

"_Santana," I hear in a stern voice. I roll my eyes knowing it wasn't Brittany. It was the other blonde, Quinn. _

"_Where the hell have you been the past week?" she asks huffing slightly and moving her eyebrows in ways that probably should not be possible._

_I narrow my eyes at her, "Working," is my only reply._

"_Whatever," she says rolling her eyes at me. "B has been looking for you, you know? Something about how she thinks she knows you from somewhere and it's really messing with her head so it'd be great if you could stop," Quinn tells me._

_She remembers._

_Brittany remembers… something. She remembers something that is the only explanation. She remembered something and it's freaking her out. That's good, right?_

"_Are you deaf or just too stupid to form a reply?" Quinn asks since she'd been talking and I hadn't been listening._

"_Sorry, what'd you say?"_

_She puts her hands on her hips, "I said you need to get your head out of your ass and either stop messing with her head or do something to fix it. She's freaking out about napkins and bracelets and it's starting to creep me out."_

"_Thanks," I say turning to walk out of the diner after getting the hint that I probably shouldn't be there. I shouldn't have come at all._

* * *

I remember going to church as a child with my family, my mother greeting everyone in her broken English accent while my father politely nods at those passing with my hand gripping at his slacks. I remember my mother and me sitting at the dinner table just looking at our food for hours.

"We don't eat unless your father is at the table," she would say as we sat in silence watching the door wondering if he was coming home that night.

I remember my father sneaking in at impossible hours of the night. I remember him coming in to kiss me on the forehead while I pretended to be asleep. Only when he did come home did I sleep. I remember those impossible hours getting more impossible as I grew. I remember being sixteen and sneaking out at the same times he would sneak in. I remember being seventeen when he stopped sneaking in.

I don't remember when I lost my will to hope, however. Somewhere in it all I stopped hoping he would come home. I stopped hoping.

* * *

_One night her hand traces the scar and I let out a sigh._

"_My father threw a plate," I say into the empty room the vibrations hitting the walls and then bouncing off to slap me across the face, "Mami was mad when he missed another dinner and they yelled and he threw it. In retrospect I shouldn't have been eavesdropping considering it hit the wall and then hit me."_

_Her fingers dance on my skin as she moves her head onto my chest to kiss the line there, "Was he sorry?" she asks her lips grazing my skin._

_I shake my head. "No," I reply, "He wasn't." Papi was never sorry for the things he did, only sorry for the mistake you must have made to be the one getting hurt._

* * *

The next days are full of work. Mostly because I'm closed to being let go with how shitty my hours have been. I have yet to go back to the diner. Quinn's words echo in my head every night and I become more and more conflicted. "Stop messing with her head or do something to fix it."

Hadn't she already done that? Fixed it? Fixed my mistakes? Gotten rid of me?

Is that what I'm meant to do now? Get rid of myself for her? Leave town? Leave her?

And yet as I leave work I take the train and get off a block away from the diner. My feet move on their own bringing me places I shouldn't go.

* * *

_I find myself in the diner standing with my hands in my jacket pocket awkwardly. _

"_Santana?" I hear questioned in a voice that my ears know so well. She walks up to me and I offer up a smile. It's all I can offer up because she's looking at me with big concerned eyes and I realize I shouldn't be doing this. I didn't know the chaos that I was spreading on her life; but I did. _

"_I'm sorry," I mutter and she looks confused. Her eyes almost begging me for something._

"_The bracelet," she says pulling mine from her apron, "This is yours." Brittany reaches for my arm and pulls my hand from my pocket making my skin burn all over making my body slowly high even with the smallest contact as she clasps the bracelet against my wrist. "They're kind of like hand cuffs, aren't they?" she says while my heart breaks. _

_She is still Brittany and we are still bound by the handcuffs around our hearts._

"_I'm trying to remember," she tells me looking down nervously, "Whatever you're trying to remind me of, I'm trying to remember."_

"_I'm sorry," I repeat the phrase beginning to wear thin against my lips._

"_I'm not," Brittany tells me as she leads me to my table._

_I take a seat and don't remove my jacket. I'm not staying._

"_Coffee, to go."_

* * *

You don't know what you've had until you've lost it. That's what they say.

I remember those nights I spent desperately trying to find a way to make Brittany remember me. I remember staying up to find some kind of loop hole in her mind. I remember making list after list of any possible item, smell, or sound that could possibly trigger a memory of me. I remember the nights at my dinner table empty of food and full of scrapped ideas. I remember sneaking out of my mind and into sleep only when I've exhausted my body to the point of no return. I remember sneaking back into reality reluctantly more tired than before sleep happened.

I remember trying to hate Brittany. I remember trying to hate myself for letting our relationship pass us by.

I remember fighting for her.

I don't remember when I started to believe that it was time to say goodbye. I don't remember when I began to doubt that love could conquer all. I don't remember giving up on the fairy tale. Brittany would be disappointed in me. She would be so disappointed.

* * *

_The liquor store screams my name as I walk home. _

_I scream my name once I'm home and locked in the safety of my bathroom._

"_Santana!" I scream trying to remember who I am. Who I was. Who I should be._

"_God damn you bitch," I yell at my reflection, "It's not okay. You're not okay. Let her go. You're just a bitch, let her go. It's time to say goodbye. She doesn't want you. She erased you. She fucking hates you and you fucking hate her. It's better this way, don't you understand? It's better this way. Run away. You're just a scared little girl, run away."_

_I spit and slur my words with venom and I'm thankful no one can see me this way yet terrified at seeing myself. I want to know who I am but I'm scared of who I am._

_I'm Santana Lopez drunk and alone in a dimly lit bathroom yelling at herself in a mirror. Makeup runs down my face while my hair is matted to my cheeks with tears. I am not me. I can't look myself in the eyes because I'm scared. _

"_She's not yours anymore," I scream shocked at the words coming out of that girl's mouth. Who the fuck does she think she is?_

"_I don't believe you!" I swing hard at my face and only hear the sound of shattering glass. I leave the bathroom and somehow find my bed. I cry looking at my nightstand. The picture of Brittany that sits there is disappointed in me. I know it. I know it because even if I don't know who I am, she does. Brittany knows who I am. Her pale blue eyes linger on me and I can't help but reach for the picture and chuck it across the room as I pray for sleep._

* * *

I do remember when my fight became a flight, however. It all ended with coffee. Black coffee. To go.


End file.
